


Second Verse

by rosecake



Category: Total Recall (2012)
Genre: F/M, Imprisonment, Lima Syndrome, Stockholm Syndrome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-17
Updated: 2017-09-17
Packaged: 2018-12-23 05:48:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,270
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11983461
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rosecake/pseuds/rosecake
Summary: Lori survives the bombing of the gravity elevator, but in the aftermath she wants revenge and needs to secure her future.  Kidnapping Doug is a way for her to kill two birds with one stone.





	Second Verse

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Hecate](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hecate/gifts).



Lori was good at her job. She liked it, too, or at least she liked parts of it. The movement, the pressure, the violence - she loved those parts of it. She'd always had too much energy, even as a child, and the physical nature of her work gave her someplace to channel it. All her training, and later her missions, were the perfect state-sponsered excuse to let her competitive side run wild, let her her take all that energy out on whatever loser got in her way. Nobody told her _be a gracious winner, Lori_ at the agency. Nobody told her _be a good sport_. Working for the UFB meant she got to throw her enemy on the ground and rip them apart until _she_ got tired of it, not when they broke and started crying and begging for mercy.

The pretending part of it, though, that got tedious fast. Lori liked a little bit of acting, liked it well enough when she managed to trick a mark into believing in something that wasn't real, but she liked for those sorts of jobs to be over fast.

Six weeks of holding back, softening all her hard edges, pretending to be grateful for a shitty apartment and a terminally boring husband, none of that was really her style. It wasn't the sort of assignment she would have chosen for herself. She had actually tried to decline it at first, but Cohaagen had let her know in no uncertain terms that she wasn't being given a choice.

So she went through the motions, pretended to be in love, and right up until the Rekall fiasco the mark bought into it hook, line, and sinker. The whole time she wondered if he'd always been that gullible, or if it had been some kind of damage from the mental block.

In retrospect, maybe she should have tried a little harder when Doug got back from the Rekall joint. She hadn't really put her best into her performance. Acting was, after all, an important competent of spycraft, and maybe if she'd tried a little harder she could have gotten him back on track without the need for intervention. Convinced him that it was just a fever dream, some side effect of letting a back-alley fantasy shop mess with his brain. No, the problem was that she just hadn't wanted to.

Instead, she'd done exactly what she wanted, which was to slowly squeeze the life out him like he'd been doing to her for the past six weeks.

In the end, that might have been a mistake. But there was nothing to do now but move forward. She carefully applied bandages to her burns and scrapes, then iced down her bruises. She might be battered, but she was still alive, although with Cohaagen dead there was no guarantee she'd be alive for long. Rationally, she knew that she needed to rest until she was recovered, but she had never been a big fan of reasoned caution. No, her situation was bad and likely to get worse, and rapid action was needed if she was going to turn things around.

Admittedly, she was now taking the whole thing more personally than she should. But then again, what kind of man left his wife of seven years behind to go join a terrorist cell? Sure, all of it was fake memories, but it must have felt real to him. She was offended on Lori Quaid's behalf, even if Lori Quaid wasn't exactly a real person. Still, it wasn't _just_ about revenge.

She needed something, a bargaining chip, and she knew just where to get one.

\-------------------------

Melina was an unknown variable. Under normal circumstances Lori would stalk her for weeks, waiting until she had every little mannerism and nervous tick memorized, every freckle and mole carefully mapped. Unfortunately, time was a luxury she currently did not have, and so she had to make due with her own brief impressions of the woman.

She was in a rush, and apparently she didn't get it exactly right.

Lori wasn't sure exactly what gave her away, but she knew Doug far better than she knew Melina, and she could see it in his eyes the exact moment he realized it was a disguise.  But it was too late for him - her needle was already in his arm, and she had no trouble overtaking him once the sedatives took over.

\-------------------------

The UFB as she knew it had only been gone for days, but she still missed it. She'd been stuck in the Colony for far too long, and she could already feel the rot and filth of it starting to creep in under her skin. She missed having top-of-the-line facilities and highly trained personnel ready and waiting at a moment's notice. Still, she had thankfully planned for various worst-case scenarios, including the possible incapacitation or destruction of The Fall, and so there was more than one safe house in the Colony for her to choose from.

She picked one of the ones furtherest from their old apartment, one that she'd paid for out of her own salary and that only she knew about. In her mind that made it the safest, at least until she had a better idea of how things were going to shake out in the UFB with Cohaagen dead.

It wasn't the most advanced facility she'd ever worked out of, but it had several glass-walled cells capable of holding Doug for a while. And, more importantly, it also had a a satellite phone capable of reaching the UFB even the The Fall out of commission.

She had the agency emergency number memorized. It was one of the very first things she was taught as a new agent, and she'd never forgotten it.

"I have something for you," she said as soon as the line picked up. She didn't bother to identify herself; the agent on the other end of the line would have seen the voice recognition ID as soon as she she started speaking.

"I don't know what you think you can offer us now," said the answering agent. "Your services are no longer needed."

Anger rose in her chest but she inhaled, banked it for later. It was no surprise that she was being burned now that Cohaagen was both dead and an embarrassment to the government that had replaced him. It was the same thing she would have done to an agent in her situation.

That didn't mean she'd let them get away with it, though.

"I have Carl Hauser," she said.

There was a moment of silence on the other end of the line. "He's done all the damage he can do. If you kill him for us, I suppose that might save us some time, but he'll die soon enough either way once the new invasion force is operational."

"He was Cohaagen's pride and joy," said Lori, and look how that had blown up in Cohaagen's face. They should have killed him the first chance they got. "He's more useful to you alive than dead."

"What makes you say that?"

"You think you're safe up there, don't you? I mean, I'm sure it's chaotic now, but you've got all those robots around to keep the peace, to rebuild. I'm sure plenty of the people up topside even feel safer with the Colony out of reach. But you're an intelligence officer, aren't you? You know better than that. You know full well how many members of the Resistance are stuck up there with you. You know just how sophisticated their network is, just how many bombs are still waiting to go off."  She waited for a moment, giving the threat time to sink in.  "I can give you the head of that network on a silver platter."

Not that he'd be of any use to them. He was far more Doug than Carl now, and she doubted he would be able to provide them with any useful information even under the most advanced interrogation techniques. Hell, for all she knew there wasn't even any information to give. Most of the recent terrorist attacks in the UFB had gone unsolved not because of the Resistance's sophistication, but because they'd been secretly orchestrated by Cohaagen. That wasn't common knowledge, though, not even in his own agencies. And hopefully she'd be long gone before they realized Douglas Quaid wasn't really worth much.

"What do you want in exchange for him?"

"I want a retirement package," said Lori. "I think I'm due that, don't you? I want money, weapons, and a guarantee that you won't come after me later."

Not that she would ever take them at their word, but that's what the money and weapons were for. Lori could take care of herself if given the resources to do so.

The pause on the line went on long enough that Lori was sure the agent was discussing it with someone over his pay grade. Maybe even the new Chancellor.

"We want proof of life before we agree to anything," he said when he came back.

"Of course."

\-------------------------

"Time to wake up," said Lori. Doug didn't move. Maybe she should think of him as Carl? But he'd been Doug to her for so long.

"Wake up, wake up, wake up," she said. He wasn't reacting to the sound of her voice, so for good measure she kicked him too. That got a groan out of him, and he slowly tried to rise up off the bed.

"Smile for the camera," she said, holding the camera up to get a clear shot of him. In addition to sound and visible light it was also recording in x-ray and a few of his vital signs, including his heartbeat, which according to the readout was picking up the pace as he started to realize what was going on around him.

"What are you doing?" he asked, looking up at her in confusion and more than a little fear. "Where am I?"

He looked more like a kicked dog than a terrorist mastermind, which wasn't exactly in line with Lori's plans, but hopefully the agency would overlook it.

"Welcome to the new apartment, I hope you like it," said Lori. "I know it's a little sparse, but there wasn't much I could do about the decor given the circumstances. Still, it's at least cleaner than the old place, right?"

His eyes narrowed as she spoke, which was good. It made him look a bit more threatening. "Where's Melina?" he asked.

"I don't know, and I don't currently care," said Lori.

That wasn't entirely true - Melina was on her list of problems she needed to get around to, preferably before Melina got to her. But that could wait.

"She's going to come for me."

"Oh, I really do hope she does," said Lori. "It'll save me the trouble of having to hunt her down."

He moved, and for a second she thought he might lunge for her, but his movement were slow and sluggish and in the end he just slumped back against the bed. Disappointing, but Lori supposed she couldn't blame him. She had given him quite a lot of tranquilizer.

"I can see that you're tired, so why don't you go back to sleep? Nothing will have changed when you wake up, I promise."

\-------------------------

"Video footage can be faked." It was a different agent this time, a woman. Or maybe it was the same agent and they ran their calls through a different vocal modulator every time. It didn't matter much to Lori.

"I know the traditional thing to do in these situations is to cut off a finger or an ear or something like that, but I'm not sure how I'd get it to you given the current situation."

"We still have plenty of active agents in the Colony. And for the time being a blood sample will be sufficient."

She wondered how many agents they really had. Most of her old crew had been killed over the past week, and the new administration had probably terminated a number of people they considered too close to Cohaagen. They couldn't have that many assets left in the Colony.

"I'll have it for you right away," she said.

\-------------------------

The cells in the safe house were professionally designed. Nothing in them was of any use as a weapon, and if she needed to enter she could release sedatives through the air vents, or deliver an incapacitating but nonlethal shock through the floors. She didn't do any of that, though. She walked in with a tray of medical supplies, both hands on it, and walked right past him to set it on a table. Her back was wide open, and she took her time.

It didn't take him long to go for the obvious opportunity. She smiled as she heard him move behind her, and she was already turning as his fist lashed out. He'd been aiming for her head, but she managed to twist herself around in time to catch his fist with one hand and his elbow with her other. She pulled hard, sending him off balance and onto the floor, and she followed him to the ground, landing heavily on top of him.

He struggled, but he was slower than he'd been in their fight in the bedroom. Probably because he was still injured from the explosion that had taken out The Fall. She didn't mind it, though. She still wasn't back in top shape either, and he was at least strong enough, or desperate enough, to give her a decent fight.

"Sorry, dear, but I can't play all day. There's work to be done," she said, breathing heavily after getting him pinned firmly to the floor between her thighs.

"What work?" he asked. His frustration was evident in his voice. "Your boss is dead. Your plan went up in smoke!"

"Oh, there's always a new plan, there's always more work to be done, right up until you die," she said. He tried to shift away from her as she took the blood sample, and she laughed at the attempt. She'd forgotten how fun it was to have something warm struggling between her thighs.

"Whatever you're trying to do, it isn't going to work," he said. "We stopped you once and we can stop you again."

"Sure you will," she said, patting him on the chest before she got up to leave.

She wondered how long it would take before the UFB got its act together, got its airplanes up in the air to bomb the Colony back into submission. Ideally long after she'd made her way out. The trip from the Colony to the UFB by private plane or boat was dangerous and unpleasant, to be sure, but it was still possible.

Then again, she might stick around. The risk of dying might be worth it if she got to see everybody else die too.

\-------------------------

"Did you get the sample?" asked Lori.

"Yes," said the agent. Man again, but still not the same voice as the first time. "We'll be in touch."

\-------------------------

They took their sweet time getting in touch, which left Lori alone with Doug.

"Poor Doug," she said, resting her head against the glass door to his cell. "I'm sorry, I know you must be getting bored in there."

"Why are you keeping me here?" he asked. It wasn't the first time he'd asked. "Why don't you just kill me?"

"Maybe I missed you, Doug. I mean, we were together for six whole weeks. How would I even know what do to with myself without you around?"

Doug didn't respond. He refused to even look at her. That's what he did when she pushed a little too hard, he gave her the silent treatment.

"Oh, sorry. I guess it did feel a lot longer for you. Five years, right?"

"Seven," he muttered, his voice acidic and almost too low for her to hear.

"Oh, right, seven. How could I forget? We're due for an anniversary soon, right? I'm afraid we might miss it. The UFB wants you back, you know. You're probably going to be in the middle of interrogations when our special day rolls around. Maybe we can celebrate early instead? I'm afraid you're not really going to be in any position to celebrate afterwards."

He looked up at her, more confusion than fear on his face. She'd hoped for more fear. "What does the UFB want with me? It's over. It's done. The Colony is free now."

She laughed. "Oh, Doug. You break one machine and you think it's over? It's not over. It's never going to be over, not until either everyone in the Colony or the UFB is dead."

He didn't want to believe her, but he did. She could read the emotions on his face as clear as day. Such a terrible, terrible spy he made. How had anyone ever though he was a better agent than her?

"I still don't understand what they want with me," he said. "Is it just the chance to kill me slowly?"

"And lose everything locked up in that beautiful mind of yours? What a waste that would be."

"I don't remember anything!"

He clearly didn't, she understood that much. Some muscle memory, maybe, but nothing more than that. "Well, they don't know that, do they? And who knows. I'm sure they can pry something out of you if they try hard enough."

"Nobody's getting in my head again," he snapped, his fist slamming against the glass wall of his cell.

It didn't do much of anything to the glass, but it did get her blood pumping a little faster.

"Really? And what are you going to do to stop them?" she asked. "Maybe they'll give you a new identity again! Do you have any names you're partial to? How about Eric? Do you feel like being an Eric for a while?"

He didn't bother responding to her provocation, he just paced his little cell for a few minutes, restless, just like she was. They were both trapped for the time being, she just had a little more room to move around.

Eventually he stopped pacing, and came down and sat at the glass wall on the other side of her. He wasn't looking at her, he was looking in at his cell, but if the wall hadn't been there he'd have been resting up against her.

"What's your name?" he asked.

"What?"

"What's your name? It's not Lori Quaid, obviously, but you never told me what it actually was."

She thought about lying, just to mess with him, but there didn't seem to be any point to it. "It is Lori, actually," she said. "It's a common enough name, and it's not like I was a public figure. There's no reason to lie about something like that if you don't have to. It just makes it that much more likely that you'll slip up."

"Lori," said Doug, stretching it out, like it was something new he was getting used to instead of the same name he'd been calling her for weeks. Or years. "What's your last name, then?"

"Do you really want to know?" she asked.

He turned, so that he was actually looking at her. "Yes."

"Well, if you want to know, then that's all the reason I need not to tell you."

He sighed. "Fine," he said, turning back around so that he wasn't facing her anymore. "Be that way."

She got up to leave. She'd had enough of playing with him for the day.

\-------------------------

Lori put in a follow-up call, but this time the line went unanswered. She was a professional, and she was completely capable of waiting, but that didn't mean she liked it.

\-------------------------

She was actually in the cell with him this time, and that was dangerous even with various safety features built into it, but she was bored. She needed a little danger.

"You're hurting innocent people," he said. He was back to pleading with her again. That was all he did now, vacillate between anger and pleading.

"Yes, I know. That's a large part of the appeal." She wondered if that would be enough to flip him back to anger.

His jaw tightened as he clenched his teeth, and he turned away from her. She liked it when he was angry, though, and she grabbed him by the jaw to turn his face back to her.

"Stop looking away from me," she said.

"Why not? What do you want from me?"

"Oh, honey, I want a lot of things from you," she said.

She wanted him to be her ticket out of the Colony. She wanted to fuck him, and for real this time, not holding herself back. She wanted him to admit that she was a better agent than he was and always had been, except that was really something she wanted from Carl Hauser, not Doug. And at this point she was pretty sure Carl Hauser was dead and gone in every way that really mattered.

Doug was right in front of her, though, and had at least one thing to offer her, so she leaned into him. He bit her lip as she kissed him, but at the same time he was holding tight to the back of her head, tight enough that she couldn't pull away even if she'd wanted to.

And she really didn't want to.

\-------------------------

He tried to escape, afterwards. But she was ready for him.

"Don't think this means I've gone soft on you," she said, gently stroking his hair. "Nothing's changed."

\-------------------------

She had cameras hooked up with live feeds from the other safe houses, the ones she knew about but had decided not to use, and so she was able to watch as a UFB team raided the one she'd let them trace the calls back to.

Rage coiled up in her stomach, heating her from the inside. Really, she hadn't expected them to deal fairly with her, but it still burned to see such blatant disrespect. Even if they had no intention of honoring their promises, they should have at least had some respect for her abilities. They should have known she wouldn't let them trace the calls back to her.

Regardless, it was clear that she needed a new plan.

\-------------------------

She took some of her anger and frustration out on Doug. Not all of it, obviously, because for the time being she still wanted him alive. But enough of it to take the edge of. She let her fingers and teeth sink into his flesh, enough to hurt, but not enough to draw blood, and he did the same to her. He was finally giving as good as he got.

It was nice. She felt better afterwards.

"What would you do if I let you go?" she asked as she slipped back into her clothes.

There was a little spark of hope in his eyes, which was stupid. She had no intention of letting him go. It was very clearly just a hypothetical.

"I'd stop you," he said, voice full of misplaced righteousness.

"And by me, you mean the UFB?"

"Yes," he said, confused, because he still hadn't realized how far the lines had shifted.

She left him to his confusion.

\-------------------------

The assault on the first safe house should have lead the UFB team to a second decoy, but either she fucked up somewhere or they were better than she gave them credit for, because the next safe house they hit was the one she and Doug were staying in.

Not that it mattered. She'd known they were going to find the right place eventually, and she was ready for them.

They were using some of her old crew - even under the gear, she recognized them by their fighting styles. And there was no reluctance in her at all as she tore into people she'd worked side by side with not that long ago. The familiarity just made it easier, because she knew exactly how they worked, and how best to take them apart.

She had blood on her when she went up to Doug's cell, but none of it was her own.

"What the fuck happened?" he asked. He'd spent the whole fight screaming, able to hear what was going on but not see it.

"UFB strike force," she said.

His hands clenched in to fists. "What they hell do they think they're going to accomplish in the Colony with The Fall gone?"

"Doug, darling, I've tried explaining this to you already. You think The Fall was the only way to reach the Colony? It was just the easiest. Now, admittedly, they don't have a large enough air force for a full-scale invasion. The Fall was easy, and they got complacent. But it doesn't take that long to build a fleet. Not when they still have all those factories, all those robots to build for them."

He was thinking it over. "Your own government just tried to kill you," he said.

There wasn't much point in denying it. "Yes, it would seem so," she said as she entered the code to open his cell.

"You might not care about the Colony, or anything important, but you care about that, don't you?" he asked. "They tried to kill you. Don't you want to try and kill them?"

A smile broke out over her face. A sincere one, she didn't even have to fake it this time. "Oh, honey. After all this time I think you're finally starting to understand me."


End file.
